


Don't Lose Sight of Me

by WhatComesFromWithin



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Blood and Violence, Ghost!AU, Ghost!Scorpius, M/M, Prince!Albus, Soldier!Albus, War, mentions of solitary confinement, past major character death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:55:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23695024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatComesFromWithin/pseuds/WhatComesFromWithin
Summary: After a solo mission goes wrong, Albus Potter finds himself running from his enemy. As luck would have it, he ends up meeting a ghost and stumbling further and further into the past. What he finds makes him question all he knows about the world...and about himself.
Relationships: Scorpius Malfoy/Albus Severus Potter
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	Don't Lose Sight of Me

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is the first chapter of a multichapter I'm starting. I'm really excited to be writing this! Descriptions of violence probably won't be super graphic when they come up, but I'd rather warn just in case. Also, this is a Ghost!AU, so there will be a future chapter discussing the death of that character. I will put it in the warnings at the beginning of each chapter when it does come up, but be safe! 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter/Harry Potter and the Cursed Child. All rights go to J.K. Rowling and Jack Thorne. 
> 
> WARNINGS: Language, violence, blood, character injury, implied character death, talk of solitary confinement.

Albus was running faster than he had ever run in his life. He could scarcely hear the wind rushing past him over the pounding of his heart in his ears. He felt almost like he was flying, but if this was flight, then he was a songbird being hunted by a flock of falcons. Grip tight on the handle of his sword, Albus took a sharp turn right, bolting for the woods. They were unfamiliar to him, but he still had a better chance of losing his pursuers there than he did on this open plain. If he could just make it past the tree line—

Albus cried out as he felt something strike his leg. One of the bastards following him had thrown their knife at him! Thankfully, their aim could have been improved upon and Albus didn’t suffer more than a gash. It was a little deep, yeah, but it was a lot better than having a dagger stuck in his calf. Gritting his teeth, Albus pushed onward, determination fueling him as he half limped, half sprinted for the edge of the forest, all the while trying desperately to ignore the fact that the Augery’s troops were quickly gaining on him. 

Relief rushed through him when he set foot among the trees, but he couldn’t afford to pause, even for a moment. At least the group behind him would be seriously slowed down if they wanted to stay together, or else risk separation. Not to mention that it would be harder to throw anything at him. 

As Albus weaved through the trees, he felt the cut on his leg start to burn. There was nothing he could do about it at the present moment, though. Adrenaline would just have to be enough.

If his brother’s directions were to be trusted, then on the other side of this forest was an abandoned village, and on the other side of that was one of the New Order’s bases. It shouldn’t be more than two days' travel, and he would be able to treat his wound and figure out his next move. 

Albus grit his teeth as he thought about how quickly this mission had gone south. He shook his head and continued dodging past low hanging branches. He’d have time to think about that later. His objective right now was to get away from the group on his tail. 

Albus glanced behind him. Out of the original seven, he could see four, but he could also hear a couple frustrated shouts farther in the distance, so he would have to assume that three had fallen behind and not split off from the group to cut him off. Albus was lucky he had the head start that he had and that he was the best in the New Order at long distance sprinting. Otherwise, he probably would have been captured by now. 

There was a break in the trees, barely noticeable, but Albus was no stranger to being on the run. He knew how to read unfamiliar terrain, and right now he was reading all about a sudden drop-off. 

Pushing himself harder, Albus got ready to trick his pursuers. Hopefully, they would be too busy focusing on him to notice the cliff. If they were anything like the other Augery soldiers Albus had run into, they would be. 

The four soldiers left were gaining on him; Albus could hear the clanging of swords and the thundering of their footsteps. Albus ran as fast as he could toward the edge of the drop-off— hidden partially by the long grass, partially by the moss hanging from low branches—and right as his foot hit the edge, Albus twisted his body to the left and took off sprinting along what he could now see was a ravine. 

Alarmed shouts, pained cries, and loud thuds sounded from behind him. Albus smiled. 

He ran for about ten more meters before glancing behind himself and down into the ravine, just in case. No sign of any soldiers. Perfect. 

The sun was getting lower in the sky. If he could find that old village before nightfall, he would be all right. But until then, he would keep running.

* * *

The sun was losing its battle with the night sky when Albus finally stumbled across a road. It was overgrown with weeds and was leaf-strewn, but he could still make out where trees had been cleared away on either side and the ruts on the ground were ancient wagons and carts had worn down the path. Wiping sweat from his brow, Albus began walking along the path. Where there was a path, there was a village. Where there was a village, there was a hiding place and a night of rest for him before he set out for the base.

Albus had slowed his pace a little bit since he left the ravine behind, but he hadn’t stopped to rest for fear that he’d run into more soldiers. It was doubtful that he’d find any this deep in the forest, and according to James, the maps he’d shown Albus were the only ones of their kind. It was unlikely that the Augery had any knowledge of the village, but it never hurt to be careful.

Albus didn’t have to walk far before he came upon it. Obviously, it had been abandoned for quite some time—the walls on nearly every house had crumbled, most roofs had collapsed, and those that hadn’t had huge holes in them. If he had to guess, Albus would say it was at least a hundred years old, maybe more, judging by the architecture. 

He couldn’t help but be slightly awed. He’d been on a few adventures since joining the New Order, but even he had seen nothing like this. If he wasn’t technically still on the run for his life and didn’t need to get to the New Order base to send a report to his commander, he would have spent more time looking around and exploring. 

He did, however, need to find a place to spend the night in the village. 

Albus stopped walking for a moment and reached into the pouch attached to his belt. He never went on a mission without it; it contained a small knife, flint, a striker, and, most importantly, bandages. Moving to sit on the ground, Albus pulled out a bandage and inspected the gash on his leg. It wasn’t very deep, even though it would probably scar. Because he didn’t want to risk going back to the ravine, Albus decided to skip over washing the wound before bandaging it. It hadn’t looked dirty, anyway. Albus chuckled quietly to himself. Lily would kill him if she found out. 

Before he stood back up, Albus scanned the houses surrounding him, searching for one that looked at least somewhat structurally sound. His eyes landed on one roughly fifteen yards away from him. The left side of the house was in pretty bad shape, but the right side was still almost completely intact, and vines had grown over the structure, hopefully reinforcing the wall. 

Despite the ache he could feel beginning to pull at his muscles, Albus pushed himself to his feet and walked over towards the old house. He placed one hand gingerly on the crumbling door frame, marveling at how it could still be here, after so much time had passed and so much had happened. He began to wonder how James had come across the map to this village in the first place and what had happened to the people who used to live here. Why was the location so secret? Why was the village abandoned? What had happened here?

Albus shook his head and pushed the door open. He could think about this village later. Right now, all it was to him was a safe place to spend the night. 

The inside was not much to look at, and it smelled of decay, but that was to be expected. Albus ignored the demolished side of the house and started looking for a place relatively out of the way that he would feel safe enough to sleep in. This house was only one story, so there were no stairs to hide under, and no upstairs to retreat to if need be. But any decision on these kinds of missions held some kind of risk, and Albus was no stranger to these kinds of missions. 

Albus entered what he assumed used to be the kitchen. While his eyes swept the room, icy unease pooled in his stomach. 

The kitchen was....a mess. There were dirty, dusty dishes piled on one side of the sink and a neater pile of them stacked on the other. Yellowed papers were pinned to the wall; some more appeared to have been blown off by the wind. Albus could see a rag hanging over the edge of the sink and a broom lying across the floor. 

But right in the center of the floor was a large puddle of dried blood, and sticking out of the center of the puddle, driven into the floor, was a rusted—but still wickedly sharp—knife. 

Albus was familiar with blood. He knew the smell, the look, the  _ taste _ , even, like the back of his hand. It was part of life as a soldier. There was a  _ lot _ of blood on that floor, and so whoever used to live here either murdered someone in their kitchen, or someone had come and killed them. Or perhaps multiple people. 

There was no trail leading away from the puddle, so Albus doubted whoever it was had been able to get to help. But the knife was embedded in the floor, and there was no sign of a body or bones. Unable to smother the curiosity building in him, Albus took a step forward, squinting at the knife’s hilt. He could just barely make out the outline of a symbol on the hilt. Albus took another step forward and reached out his hand.

“I wouldn’t touch that if I were you.”

Albus yelped, pulling his hand back and reaching automatically for the dagger he kept tied to his belt, stumbling backwards out of the kitchen all the while. He tripped on a rotted floorboard and fell backward onto a rug by the wall opposite the kitchen. To his shock and alarm, Albus didn’t stop falling. He crashed through the floor and fell in a tangle of limbs, rug, and floorboards. He felt himself twisting in midair, but the rug was obscuring his vision. His heart was beating madly in his chest, and his hands grappled for something to hold onto but only managed to grab air. 

Searing pain shot through his leg as his foot connected with the ground, and Albus let out a sharp yell. His back and head hit the ground next, stunning him and stealing his breath. Groaning, Albus sat up and started to untangle himself from the rug, being mindful not to jostle his throbbing ankle. Once he’d gotten the rug and floorboards away from himself, Albus looked at his ankle. Yep, it was definitely broken. There was no mistaking it when you considered the angle it was bent at. He could feel the break when he ran gentle fingers over it, too, causing him to hiss in pain. 

“You okay, mate?”

Albus blamed the fact that he had momentarily forgotten about the voice he’d heard on the fact that his head was still reeling and he was still in shock from the fall. Heart nearly stopping in his chest, Albus snapped his head up at the sound. His eyes widened and he shivered at what he saw. 

There, some ten feet above him at the top of the hole he’d fallen into, was a young man, roughly his own age. He had pale blond hair and even paler skin, and although Albus couldn’t make out many of his other features, he could tell that the boy’s eyebrows were pinched with worry. 

And that Albus could see the ceiling through his body.

Albus’ breathing rate picked up as he gasped out, “You-you’re a—”

“Ghost? Yeah.” The ghost smiled at him, albeit slightly awkwardly. “But seriously, are you okay? That was a pretty nasty fall.”

Albus’ New Order training kicked in. “I’m fine. Just surprised me, is all.” Discreetly, he tried to scan his surroundings for his dagger, which he must have dropped during the fall. 

The ghost moved further over the opening. “Um, are you sure? Because you fell pretty far, and I’m almost positive that I heard you yell. Scratch that, I’m entirely positive that I heard you yell.”

Albus locked his eyes on his dagger before quickly looking back up at the...ghost. “I was just surprised,” he repeated firmly.

The ghost was far over the opening now; had he been alive, he would have fallen into the hole already. He tilted his head. “If I were alive,” he began, and Albus momentarily froze, afraid that the ghost somehow knew what he was thinking, “I would have broken something from that fall. I’d also be freaking out, I think, because I wouldn’t be able to climb out. To be honest, I’m kinda surprised that you’re not panicking right now.”

The ghost’s casual tone kept throwing Albus; he’d never met a ghost before, had never really believed in them, and he was frankly having a little bit of a crisis inside. His New Order training was the only thing keeping him grounded. But the ghost wasn’t acting freaked out or hostile. Maybe people came through this village more often than he had been led to believe. 

The thought made Albus’ blood run cold. If that was the case, then he needed to get out of this village as soon as possible, night’s rest be damned. He could not, under any circumstances, allow the Augery’s forces to catch him. Failure was not acceptable. 

Albus needed to keep talking to this ghost. He might know something. “So,” he said, somewhat stiffly and ignoring what the ghost had said, “do lots of people come through here? You don’t exactly seem shocked to see me.”

To Albus’ alarm, the ghost began to float down  _ into _ the hole. Where Albus was. Injured. With only a dagger and  _ no way out _ . 

He tensed, and the ghost must have noticed, because he made sure that he was positioned as far away from Albus as he could be, even though he was only about five feet away and he had floated all the way down to the bottom of the hole. That was when Albus realized that this hole was only about six feet wide. He moved so that his back was against the wall opposite of the ghost. The distance didn’t help much, but Albus would take what he could get. 

“You’re the first person I’ve seen since this village was abandoned,” the ghost told him. He looked down at Albus’ ankle and, more specifically, the angle at which it was bent. “I knew you must have gotten injured!” the ghost exclaimed, pointing. He dropped his hand quickly and a sheepish expression crossed his face. “I’m sorry. I’m not happy that you’re hurt. It’s just—It’s been a long time since I talked to anyone.” The ghost was biting his lip and looking at the ground.

Albus could hear his heart start to thud in his chest. He swallowed. “I’m not always the best at talking to people, either.” His eyes widened, and he hurried to bring the conversation topic to something less personal. “What, um, is this place anyway? I didn’t expect there to be hole in the floor.”

The ghost huffed out a small laugh. “I don’t expect anyone does. This is—er, was—an Iso Chamber. Then they built a house over it. Don’t know why no one bothered to fill it, but then again, the people who used to live here weren’t in the habit of talking to me.”

Albus furrowed his eyebrows. “What’s an Iso Chamber?” The name sounded slightly familiar to him, but he couldn’t place where he might have heard it before.

The ghost’s expression darkened slightly. “An Iso Chamber,” he said softly, “are holes like this one, usually ten to fifteen feet deep and five to six feet wide. You’re lucky; you fell into one of the wider ones. Back in my day, criminals were put in these if their crime was considered heinous enough. They’re designed to break your spirit by isolating you. Some people would be kept down here for years, some only a few days. Others died.” 

The ghost’s voice was nearly devoid of emotion. Albus supposed that he must have seen many horrible things over the course of his...otherworldly existence. Albus’ skin prickled at the sudden cold he felt in the air. He couldn’t imagine being stuck down in a place like this for so long. 

Albus was abruptly filled with the urge to get out of this hole, and get out of it  _ now _ . “How do I get out?” he asked.

The ghost looked at him sadly. “You’d have to climb.”

Albus looked at the walls. It looked like they were made of clay. Perfectly smooth, tightly packed, terrible clay. Heart beginning to thunder, Albus looked back at the ghost. “Please tell me that there’s a wall of brick behind this clay,” he said pleadingly. 

The ghost wasn’t meeting his eyes again. “Not that I know of,” he whispered. Then he started to float upwards.

“Wait!” Albus called. “Where are you going?” He didn’t want to be left down here alone, with a broken ankle and the dark. 

The ghost floated down slowly. “Don’t you want me to go?” he asked, one eyebrow raised. 

Albus shook his head frantically. “You basically told me I have no way of getting out of here. You can’t just  _ leave _ !”

“But I basically personify death! Why would you want a reminder of that right now?”

_ Don’t say it. You’ve already said too much; if he’s an enemy, he’ll already have ways to exploit your weaknesses.  _

_ He could be the enemy. _

_ But he seems...oddly nice. _

Albus looked at the ghost with wide eyes and let his emotions win over his training for once. “Because I need to talk to someone.”

Nodding, the ghost sat on the ground. “Okay,” he murmured, “okay.” Piercing grey eyes locked onto Albus’ then. “What’s your name?”

“I—what?”

“What’s your name? I know a lot of time has passed since I last spoke to anyone living, but I like to think that parents still name their children.”

Albus let out an unexpected laugh at that. “I’m Albus.”

The ghost sent him a soft smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Albus. I’m Scorpius.”

Albus shifted his weight, but hissed when he accidentally jostled his ankle. Scorpius looked at him in concern. “Do you have anything to wrap that with? Because you should really wrap that up so it sets nicely.”

“I’ve got some bandages.” Albus reached into his belt and pulled out his last roll of bandages. He set to work, and soon his ankle was bound as well as Albus could manage. He definitely needed to find a way to a healer. “Are you sure there’s no way out of here?”

Scorpius shook his head. “I’ve never found one.”

Huffing, Albus mentally ran through a list of everything he had with him and possible escape routes. He had his dagger, which very well may prove to be his biggest asset. Maybe...maybe he could dig his way out. It would take a while, but what other option did he have?

Grabbing his dagger, Albus turned to the wall and started hacking away at it, internally despairing at how little clay was chipping away with each strike. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Scorpius exclaimed. “What are you doing? Do you want the walls to collapse on you?!”

Albus shot a glare at him. “Of course not. But how else am I going to get out of this place?” Evidently, Scorpius didn’t have an answer to that. 

A sudden thought occurred to Albus then. “That knife in the kitchen,” he said, turning to look once more at the ghost, “what was that doing there?”

If Scorpius’ lungs had still been working, Albus was sure that he would have stopped breathing. As it was, the ghost tensed and responded curtly, “You don’t want to know.”

That, of course, only made Albus want to know more. “You told me not to touch it,” he pressed. 

“Albus.” Scorpius’ tone was serious. “All you need to know is it’s bad news.” Scorpius stood up. He started floating upwards again, but before Albus could beg him to come back down, Scorpius spoke. “I’m coming back. I promise. I just...I need to check on something. And figure out a way to get you something to eat.”

It was then that Albus realized he was without both food and water. He should have listened to Lily when she told him to pack extra food. 

Oh, gods. Lily. She would be expecting to hear something from him in a few days. So would James. He needed to get out of here. 

“You promise that you’ll come back?” Albus asked. The concept of being alone was making him so much clingier than usual. How many times had he wished for alone time back home?

Scorpius quirked a smile at him. “I promise,” he repeated.

Albus gazed after Scorpius as he disappeared over the edge of the Iso Chamber. Then he turned back to the wall and continued chipping, trying to ignore the increasingly familiar coldness growing inside him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
